Crippled
by thelalilulelo2014
Summary: They found each other in the war, but didn't know each other. Not truly.
1. The Temple that Looks Down on Us

The pristine forests of Kyoshi Island hid away a gem in its bosom; a temple painted in red, on the summit of a mountain so steep, the breath of old gods swayed an emerald-cast wood that was likely older. Perhaps the immortals of old and new were warring now, for there was not a whisper of air to ease the humidity that bore down on the mortals daring enough to scale the sacred land.

His silken shirt clung to him like a second skin, and the only sound were his footsteps and ragged breathing. His muscles ached nicely from the climb, and his hands blistered from holding a branch to steady himself. The path, if it could be called that, had grown steadily stony and ever steeper.

He stopped, and looked ahead. If truth be told, he needn't scale any mountains to see a treasure in red. He need only look ahead.

His companion noticed the lack of footsteps behind her and turned around to look down at him from the slope. Her auburn hair clung to her face, and her breath heavy between full lips, but her eyes were so clear and grey and already saw their destination.

"What's wrong?" Suki asked breathlessly, "Come on."

He looked at the hand that was offered him, reaching out, but then his gaze fell to his legs below him, and his arm returned to his side.

"I can't."

"Why not? I know you can. We're almost there," Her clear grey eyes looked imploringly at him; _hopefully_ at him.

He looked at her hand again, so fair and welcoming. He knew where her hands were soft, and where they were calloused from the burden of metal fans and leadership.

He looked into her eyes, almost seeing the icy blue reflection of his own.

"I'm a cripple." He said simply.

Why had he said that? He knew why. Out of spite. Out of anger. Out of indignation that the gods, old or new, considered him insignificant enough to save their heavenly breezes for themselves.

Why had he said that?

Because Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, son of the great Warrior Chief Hakoda, hero of the Hundred Years War, was a cripple.


	2. Crippled

_Cripple._ Why had that word hurt her so deeply? Maybe it was the look in his eyes. It made her feel cold and alone. His eyes were so broken. Hopeless.

Perhaps she was only seeing her own reflection. She was tired, and her shoulders heavy. She wondered if she had only dreamt of a time when she was young.

Young. She _was_ young. She had not seen her twentieth year, and her eyes were still bright as joy, though she did not feel it.

There was a time when she felt young. It was simpler then, even if more difficult. Simpler for Sokka the Water Tribe boy and Suki the Kyoshi Warrior who was also a girl. She remembered saying that, but she had not known then, that girls could not be warriors, and that since the day she called herself 'warrior,' she had been a woman grown. A warrior and a child, but never again a girl.

She loved him then, as children do. Uncertainty breeds a certain faith in love. And she knew she loved him as much as she didn't know if she would see the next day.

But the war ended the way it did. So she wondered what it was that she felt when she looked in his eyes.

_Cripple_, he had said. And it was pain she had felt.

What else was crippled the day of Sozin's Comet?

Youth. Faith. Hope. She dreaded the answers that came to her mind, in a voice that was not her own.

_Which is it Ty?_ Her friend that she had met and lost because of the war.

The war. Why did everything lead back to the war? She didn't remember thinking so much about the war before, even when it was still happening.

She observed herself in the mirror after peeling her sweat-soaked hiking clothes off. She wondered if she should be impressed or disappointed. She was lean and pale, with scars and bruises that all had stories. Her skin had been tanned and flawless once, and lined with a layer of fat, to give her the round cheeks of a child to match bigger and brighter eyes. She had scaled the old mountain then, made it all the way to the red temple.

She was disappointed she didn't see the temple today.

_Cripple,_ he had called himself. And she was sure, at that moment, the light dulled a little more in her eyes, because he gave her a sorry look and held her hand. And they came down the mountain together, because she was scarred and pale, and she had a class to teach to the new recruits, and she was not a child anymore.

Yes, there it was. Suki the Kyoshi Warrior was once a child.


End file.
